


Secret

by mysticanni



Series: Rubber Ducks [5]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Cake, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Rubber Ducks, Secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:35:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26304271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysticanni/pseuds/mysticanni
Summary: John is trying to keep a secret.  Roger is determined to find out what it is.
Relationships: John Deacon/Roger Taylor, Peter "Phoebe" Freestone/Chris "Crystal" Taylor
Series: Rubber Ducks [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1593166
Comments: 12
Kudos: 18





	Secret

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the lovely Phoenix_Queen for encouraging me to finish this 😘

“Good morning,” Crystal murmured, pressing a kiss to Phoebe’s warm forehead. His fingers trailed down Phoebe’s spine. The sheets were bunched around their hips.

Phoebe grunted. Crystal kissed him again. He wasn’t usually awake before Phoebe and he felt a sudden strong desire to protect his drowsy lover.

“Morning,” Phoebe mumbled. 

“Are you okay, love?” Crystal asked. He had not realised he was going to ask that and his stomach dropped as he contemplated the possible answers. Phoebe had seemed distracted for a few days now. Perhaps he was not okay. Perhaps he was specifically not okay with Crystal. Perhaps he was about to tell Crystal that he no longer wanted to be with him. Phoebe would be kind, of course, as he always was and would say it was not Crystal’s fault – that Phoebe needed space – he did not need a relationship at this time. He did not need Crystal at this time.

But it would be Crystal’s fault in one way or another. He wasn’t sure what was bothering Phoebe but he was pretty sure it was something to do with him. 

So it was a surprise when Phoebe confessed, “I lied to Roger.” 

Crystal doubted Phoebe was really capable of telling a proper lie. He had almost certainly just been kind. Crystal imagined Roger in some outrageous colour combination asking Phoebe how his outfit looked and Phoebe murmuring that he looked amazing. And that wouldn’t even really be a lie. 

“He asked if I knew who John is having secret meetings with and I said ‘what secret meetings’,” Phoebe mumbled. 

Crystal sat up, dislodging Phoebe who rolled onto his back. “John is having secret meetings?” Crystal frowned. 

“No,” Phoebe said, “John is having meetings which he has unsuccessfully attempted to keep secret from Roger.” Phoebe sighed. “John doesn’t know that Roger knows about the meetings. I don’t know if I should tell him. I really wish I hadn’t got involved.”

Crystal moved so he was straddling Phoebe. “Serves you right,” he growled, pressing kisses to Phoebe’s jaw, his throat, his chest, “for keeping secrets from me.” He reluctantly admitted to himself that he was...not jealous exactly...but...put out...that John had confided in Phoebe rather than him.

“John didn’t think you would be able to keep a secret from Roger,” Phoebe said as if he could read Crystal’s mind.

“How smug you sound,” Crystal kissed Phoebe hungrily, “I can keep a secret,” he added, sliding his hand down Phoebe’s chest, fingering the worn elastic of Phoebe’s underwear.

“Not from Roger,” Phoebe suggested, shifting under Crystal, “I’ll be late for work, love,” he protested feebly.

*

“I can keep a secret from Roger, though,” Crystal said later, as Phoebe was scrambling into his clothes. Crystal had fallen back onto the bed, still damp from the shower. Phoebe needed new underwear. When had Phoebe stopped wearing his best knickers for Crystal? Was that a sign that Phoebe was going to leave him? “I kept John’s attendance at my not quite New Year’s party a secret from Roger.”

Phoebe gave him a pitying look. “That wasn’t really a secret. That was a little surprise for Roger and it was all very last minute. You didn’t have to keep quiet about it for long.” Phoebe kissed Crystal. “You’re sweet when you’re all indignant. Roger has you wrapped around his little finger. I’ll see you later, my love.” Phoebe bestowed another kiss on him and hurried out. 

Crystal belatedly realised that he should be hurrying out with Phoebe, accompanying him to the cafe for breakfast. When had Phoebe stopped suggesting things like that? When had Crystal stopped simply doing that? Phoebe had called him ‘my love’ not just love – did you say that to someone you were about to break up with?

*

Roger was kneading dough when Phoebe arrived at the cafe. He was singing ‘Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds’ which Phoebe took as an indication that there was something already in the oven and Roger thought signing this would help it rise. Phoebe squeezed his shoulder. “Sorry I’m late,” he offered. He thought he probably didn’t sound remotely sorry. 

“I’ve got some scones in the oven,” Roger told him, “There are some cherry ones – I know Crystal prefers those if he’s with you?”

Phoebe realised it was a question probably because Crystal almost always was with him these days. Why hadn’t Crystal accompanied him? Was Crystal annoyed with him? “He was taking too long to get dressed,” he told Roger. 

Roger made a face. “I didn’t need that mental image!” he sang. He set the dough to one side, studying Phoebe. “Are you okay?”

That was what Crystal had said. Really, he must do a better job of appearing okay. “I still don’t know what cake Crystal is,” he confessed to Roger. “I should know by now, shouldn’t I?”

Roger gave this important question the careful consideration it deserved. “I think maybe one day you’ll just suddenly know,” he said.

“I hope so,” Phoebe sighed. He felt unable to bake at all at home now. The pressure felt enormous. Was Crystal a lemon and poppy seed cake or a Victoria sponge or a chocolate roulade? Was he a pineapple upside down cake (definitely not) or a coconut pie or a strawberry tart? Crystal was not fruity or particularly chocolatey. Was he nutty, perhaps?

“Maybe you shouldn’t think about it too much,” Roger suggested. He looked up as they heard three knocks on the front door. That signalled the arrival of either Crystal or John. 

*

In fact, both John and Crystal were on the doorstep. Phoebe gave Crystal a hug and a kiss after greeting John who made a beeline for the coffee machine. Roger peered out of the kitchen and called, “Good morning!” to them.

Crystal grunted, never at his best at this hour of the day. John blew Roger a kiss. They had a routine now – arriving before the cafe opened and making themselves coffee while waiting for scones fresh from the oven to be presented to them. Of course, usually Crystal was on his own as John would be in London. But this summer John and his friend Freddie had been working in Chester. John had been staying with Roger and Freddie with Roger’s next door neighbour Brian. 

Freddie had been working as a guide in the museum Brian worked in. John had been helping in a shop that sold and repaired electrical items. But the summer was drawing to a close and soon Crystal would be frequenting the cafe alone again on dark mornings.

John was due to graduate the following year and Crystal suspected he would find a way to move to Chester then. John set a mug of coffee in front of Crystal and slid on to the seat opposite him. “Are your secret meetings job interviews?” he wondered. Did people have job interviews so far in advance of their graduations?

John sighed. “Not exactly, no. You mustn’t tell Rog, I don’t want to get his hopes up in case it doesn’t work out...” He glared at Crystal. 

Crystal raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I don’t actually know anything,” he pointed out, knowing he probably sounded slightly sulky. “I won’t say a word to him. I can keep a secret!”

John snorted. “Not from Roger. And apparently Phoebe can’t keep a secret from you.”

“Ah, well, he was worried,” Crystal explained, keen to defend Phoebe, “Roger asked him if he knew why you were having secret meetings and...”

“What?” John hissed.

“Phoebe denied all knowledge of anything,” Crystal told him soothingly, “and refused to tell me what is going on,” he added petulantly. This still smarted. 

“I’m sorry I can’t tell you,” John muttered, fiddling with his coffee mug, “but Rog would just look at you with sad eyes and you’d tell him everything.”

“That is completely untrue!” Crystal huffed, “I would not!”

John looked politely disbelieving. He then looked delighted as Roger appeared with scones and a kiss for John.

“You look cross,” Roger observed as he kissed Crystal’s cheek. “I hope you two aren’t arguing?”

“I’m just tired,” Crystal mumbled. Roger hugged him and he felt guilty. “I’m fine,” he grumbled, shrugging Roger way and then feeling even worse. John was glowering at him across the table for rejecting Roger’s hug. Crystal sighed. “Sorry, Waif, thank you,” he muttered. 

*

Roger mixed cake ingredients in a bowl and considered everyone. John had a secret. He thought Phoebe knew what John’s secret was but he had avoided telling Roger. That had been a relief, in a way, because Roger was absolutely certain that Phoebe would not keep a bad secret for John. Roger assumed Phoebe had been fretting about the secret to Crystal and he suspected that was the first inkling Crystal had that a secret existed. Now Crystal was trying to wheedle the secret from John. Probably unsuccessfully considering how grumpy he seemed. Roger grinned. Then he sighed. 

“Penny for your thoughts, Roggie,” Phoebe said.

“Oh, they’re not worth anything,” Roger laughed.

*

The bar was packed. All of the booths were occupied and every seat at the bar was taken. Crystal was helping behind the bar and thought how much of a performance it was. Roger was the star turn, of course. Watching Roger concoct a cocktail was like watching a master-class of non-verbal flirtation. Most of the people sitting at the bar seemed hypnotised by him. At least that took the pressure off Tim and Crystal. 

When Crystal had first opened the bar he had made drinks every night. Now, he rarely got to do this kind of work and he found he had missed it. Being stuck in the office doing paperwork was no fun at all. 

Roger took drinks over to one of the larger groups. It included a sad looking woman with long very straight light brown hair. She looked like she belonged in a painting in an art gallery. She was clearly fascinated by the man in a suit who was flirting with a woman with bright red hair and a substantial bosom. The man in the suit was fascinated by her chest. A skinny man with large spectacles was gazing longingly at the sad woman with the long hair and a woman in a sparkly blue top was watching her companions with amusement. 

Crystal watched Roger speaking to spectacles and to sparkly top. “You okay, Waif?” he asked as Roger swung back round behind the bar.

“The sad lady’s dog died,” Roger informed him gravely.

Crystal sighed. “You want to make her a drink, don’t you?” he muttered. “Go on, then.”

*

Roger asked Tim to take the sad woman’s cocktail to her. Tim was good at announcing to people that a secret admirer had bought them a drink. Roger always thought it sounded creepy when he did it. The woman with the red hair looked annoyed. The bespectacled man looked worried.

“What did you make her?” Crystal wondered. 

“A sunflower,” Roger told him. “Gin based – quite citrusy - they represent faithful love.” As Crystal looked at him blankly he added, “The dog.”

They both looked expectantly at Tim as he returned to the bar. “The nerd with glasses just asked the sad brown haired woman on a date,” Tim reported, “and she said yes.”

Roger grinned, satisfied. “Good. Their signature cocktails complement each other.”

“She seemed more into suit guy,” Crystal noted, adding, “I don’t think Phoebe and I have cocktails that complement each other, do we?”

A customer interrupted them. Once the customer had left Roger turned to Crystal. “Your cocktails work for you both just like your relationship works for you both,” he declared, moving past Crystal to access the fridge.

*

Did they work, Crystal wondered. He adored Phoebe. But Phoebe could do so much better. Crystal vigorously shook a cocktail shaker. Next to him Roger added a slice of lemon to a glass. “Do you think John might be having an affair?” Roger asked, as if he was asking if Crystal thought John liked the colour blue or would like to go on a boat trip.

“No,” Crystal said immediately before he had even really thought about it. That was his gut instinct, he realised. He had very briefly considered the possibility when Phoebe had mentioned John’s secret meetings but he had rejected the idea almost instantly. “Where’d that come from, Waif?” he asked, although he knew very well that it was because Roger knew John was having secret meetings.

He suddenly felt furious with John for causing Roger to have such troubling thoughts. Roger had set off towards a booth carrying a tray of drinks however and did not reply. John was doing something for their relationship, Crystal thought, or for Roger, he was almost certain of it. He reflected sulkily that it would be easier to pretend he knew nothing if he knew what he was supposed to be pretending not to know. 

*

John arrived just before closing time to walk Roger home. “Brian and Freddie weren’t in tonight, then?” he asked. 

Roger shook his head. “They must be having a cosy night in,” he said. He had a theory that they were in love and idly wondered if he could help them to realise that. “I’ve swapped shifts with Tim tomorrow so I’m free for your last night,” he added, sighing at the idea that it was going to be John’s last night with him for a while. “I’ve loved having you here.”

Perhaps John would say he was going to stay after all. Was that his secret? Or was he going to propose to Roger? This was Roger’s favourite possible explanation of John’s clandestine behaviour. It could be a surprise party, of course, which would be fun but didn’t seem terribly like John. Maybe it was a surprise engagement party. 

“I’ve loved being here,” John told him. 

The furtive meetings could have been John seeing a jeweller who was making Roger the most fabulous custom made engagement ring. Well, it could be if John had also robbed a bank to pay for such a thing. 

Roger smiled, slightly distractedly, as Crystal ruffled his hair. “Are you still okay for lunch tomorrow?” Crystal checked. Roger nodded. “I’ll meet you at the cafe when your shift ends then, Waif. Goodnight, you two.”

The night air felt cool and Roger shivered a little. John offered him his jacket and Roger experienced a little glow of pleasure. “Then you’ll be cold,” he pointed out but he allowed John to wriggle out of his denim jacket and drape it around his shoulders. “Thank you.”

“Do you think Crystal was a little bit frosty with me back there?” John asked.

“Oh,” Roger bit his lip. “I asked him if he thought you might be having an affair. He said no but the thought might be in his head now.” 

“You asked him what?” John spluttered.

“Sorry,” Roger murmured, “It was one of the things I’d thought of that might explain why you were meeting someone secretly.”

“Apparently not so secretly, since you seem to know all about it,” John huffed. “I’d never do that to you,” he added. 

“It was quite far down the list,” Roger assured him.

“You have a list?” John squawked. He linked arms with Roger and steered them both round a large puddle. Roger thought it would be a good puddle to float toy ducks in to brighten people’s rainy days but the puddle that usually formed at the end of his street when it rained was more convenient.

“I overheard you on the phone,” Roger told him, “I wasn’t listening deliberately. Well, you know I heard because I asked who had called and you said it was a wrong number. It’s just...I’d heard you agree to meet an hour later than originally planned.”

“Fuck,” John muttered. “Sorry, Rog, I just...I wanted to surprise you.” He pulled Roger close to his side so a group of staggering women could pass them. 

Roger wondered if he should tell John the other possibilities he had considered – illness - some kind of family issues -a drama in John’s London life – maybe accommodation worries or flatmate hassles. He had briefly considered John having concerns about his studies but that seemed unlikely. He did not think he would mention to John that he had considered a marriage proposal as a possibility although perhaps he had ruined an elaborate proposal plan and that was why John seemed so upset.

Of course, John might simply be upset because Roger had pretty much accused him of cheating on him. “An affair was in at least fifth place and possibly lower,” Roger assured him.

John laughed. “I love you,” he said fondly. “I love you and only you.”

Roger’s breath caught in his throat. Was this it? Was John about to drop to one knee on the wet pavement and ask Roger to spend the rest of his life with him?

“Mr Kennedy, who owns the shop I’ve been working in, intends to retire next year,” John told Roger, “so I’ve been discussing taking the shop over. The meetings have been with lawyers and accountants. Mr Kennedy would keep it running until I can take over full time when I graduate. I was going to tell you tomorrow.”

“So, you’ll be moving to Chester when you graduate?” Roger gasped. “Oh! That’s wonderful news!” He flung his arms around John, peppering his face with kisses.

John laughed. “It’s not quite finalised yet,” he cautioned Roger, “but I’m optimistic.”

*

Roger had liberated some sandwiches and cakes from the cafe and they had taken them to Roger’s house for lunch. John was at work. Roger told Crystal that he had discovered John’s secret.

Crystal sipped his coffee and smiled. “Well, I’m glad he isn’t having an affair. I would’ve had to kill him and that would have been a hassle.”

Roger laughed. “You’d kill someone for me, Crys? You’re too sweet!”

“Don’t tell everyone,” Crystal grinned, “I’ve got a reputation to maintain.” He was slightly disconcerted at the knowing look Roger gave him. He took another sip of coffee and a deep breath and said, “Do you think Phoebe is okay? He’s seemed...not himself lately. I thought maybe it was because he was covering for John, but...” Crystal twisted the mug in his hands. “Do you think he’s tired of me?”

“No,” Roger told him firmly. “Phoebe thinks the world of you.”

“I’ll make him lunch tomorrow,” Crystal decided, “See if he’ll talk to me.”

*

Cat listened from where she was curled up on the sofa next to Roger. She briefly considered going to sit on Crystal’s lap – he perhaps deserved a reward for being willing to kill for Roger – but she decided that would be too much effort – she would keep the thought in mind and might be nicer than usual to him on his next visit.

So John would become a permanent fixture at some point, she thought. He made Roger happy which was good. He still had a lamentable tendency to make the bed when he got up in the morning which was a point against him. Still, on the whole she was glad Roger was gaining another human to love him.

Later, she made herself scarce while they had their farewell dinner. She rubbed affectionately around Roger’s legs as he opened the door to let her out. She gave John a warning mew when he stooped to run his fingers through her fur.

*

John hoped Cat would accept him when he moved in. He was almost certain that had been a ‘watch your step’ warning from her as she left. “I’m not sure Cat likes me,” he fretted to Roger.

“Nonsense,” Roger laughed, “She adores you!”

Roger had set the table with the best china which he had bought from a charity shop because he liked the pattern of pale green ferns. He had lit candles and there were little vases of fresh flowers on the table. A delicious aroma was drifting from the kitchen.

John slid his arms around Roger’s waist. “I adore you,” he murmured. 

“I’m quite fond of you, too,” Roger grinned. 

“I wish I didn’t have to go back to London,” John sighed.

“Your time there will fly in and then you will be back here with me for good,” Roger smiled, “and you will come back here at weekends, won’t you? Not every weekend, of course, but...”

“Of course,” John kissed him. “Perhaps you could come and stay with me in London for a weekend – or longer if you can get time off?”

“Oh, that would be lovely!” Roger beamed. “You can show me the sights!”

John privately thought the best sight would be Roger in his bed but he kept this to himself, kissing Roger and tangling his fingers in his hair. “I haven’t really done a lot of the touristy things,” he admitted. “You don’t really when you live there.”

“You can use me as an excuse then!” Roger told him, “Showing the country bumpkin the big city!” He gently disentangled himself from John. “I’d best go and rescue the food.” He trailed his fingers down the front of John’s shirt. “You’ll need plenty of fuel to keep you going later,” he murmured. 

*

Crystal surveyed the devastation in the kitchen and swallowed hard around the lump in his throat. He heard the front door open and Phoebe call out happily that he was home. He was home to have lunch with Crystal. A lunch Crystal was supposed to have prepared. The lunch that was now mainly dripping or congealing on apparently every surface in Phoebe’s usually spotless kitchen.

“Oh,” Phoebe said, halting in the doorway.

“Sorry,” Crystal mumbled. And he was not going to cry, he really wasn’t.

“Oh, love,” Phoebe was suddenly right next to him folding him in his arms, “don’t cry over spilled...whatever it was.”

“’M not crying,” Crystal lied, pressing his face against Phoebe’s shoulder. “Omelette,” he gulped. 

“Omelette?” Phoebe echoed.

Crystal sighed. He sniffed and pulled away from Phoebe, wiping his eyes – which were unaccountably watering – on his sleeve. He gestured to the labour saving silicone microwaveable omelette tray. “Yeah, you put the mixture into this thing and zap it in the microwave but I dunno, I must have put too much liquid in ‘cause it spilled all out the sides and all over the counter before I got it anywhere near the microwave and now it’s all over the microwave too so it must have been leaking out in there and it was all over the tray and not properly cooked when it came out of the microwave so it dripped again and...I’ll clean up the mess I promise.”

Phoebe began to laugh and Crystal smiled weakly too. “I’ll go and get us fish and chips while you mop this up, shall I?”

*

After their lunch Crystal had gone out and had bought Phoebe flowers and a pack of new underwear. Phoebe was not quite sure what to make of that. Flowers were romantic, of course. He’d got some lovely sunflowers – cheerful happy flowers. The underwear was practical. Phoebe needed new underwear – everything seemed to have become tatty all at once – but the idea that Crystal had noticed that was...It was not a romantic gift, Phoebe thought, but it was very intimate.

“Does John ever buy you unexpected gifts?” he asked Roger the next morning in the cafe. 

“Sometimes,” Roger replied. “He’s bought me a few toy ducks now for the puddle. He brought me a great pirate duck with an eye patch and a pirate hat when he came to stay. I put it in the puddle this morning along with a couple of plain ducks.” He slid a tray of biscuits into the oven and turned around, smiling at Phoebe. “How was your lunch with Crystal yesterday?”

“Lovely,” Phoebe told him. It had been lovely, once Crystal had recovered from the exploded omelette incident. They had eaten their fish and chips out of the wrappings at the kitchen table and chatted. It had felt light-hearted and easy. For the first time in too long Phoebe had managed to stop obsessing over what cake Crystal was and whether their relationship was doomed to failure because he had not figured that out yet. 

He watched Roger retrieve a tray from the fridge and suddenly knew. “He’s a peppermint slice!” he declared. 

“Crystal?” Roger queried, setting the tray on the table. It was chocolate tiffin, Phoebe noted. He nodded. “A tray-bake,” Roger said thoughtfully.

There was, Phoebe thought, an unspoken question – is that really a cake? “I don’t think he has a proper cake,” he told Roger, “which is why I couldn’t work out what it was. But he is a peppermint slice.”

Roger beamed at him. “Would you like me to make peppermint slices?”

*

“You’re a peppermint slice!” Phoebe yelled cheerfully as he entered the house. It occurred to him that he assumed now that Crystal would be there although he still had his own house and they had never discussed moving in together but Crystal was usually with him. He considered this briefly as he hung up his jacket. “Do you want to move in officially?” he added. 

Crystal appeared in the hall. “I’m a what?”

“Your cake isn’t really a cake at all,” Phoebe told him excitedly, “you’re a peppermint slice! Roger has made some.”

“Oh,” Crystal considered this, “Yeah, I guess I’m not much of a cake person. I’d love to move in.”

“Good,” Phoebe kissed him enthusiastically. “I’d got myself into a bit of state wondering what cake you were and feeling I should know,” he added. “I’m sorry if I’ve been a bit...”

“You’re always perfect,” Crystal assured him. 

Phoebe blushed. “I’m hardly perfect, love.”

“You are to me,” Crystal told him firmly, kissing him warmly. “You are perfect to me and you are perfect for me.”


End file.
